Fiscal Spliff: Congress Needs A Big, Fat One NOW!

It is time to get the real negotiations under way with the Fiscal Spliff.

UPDATE TO THE UPDATE: December 19, 2012 – 11:13AM

Fiscal Cliff Schmiscal Schmliff. I am beyond over it. If I hear the words John or Boehner anytime soon I will bust a gut, surely not a move. After weeks of sobbing through the devastation caused by Hurricane Sandy, my nephew’s death at age 34, the horrendosity that is Sandy Hook Elementary School in Newton Connecticut and the screening of Les Miserables, the thought of a bunch of pompous, orange men sitting in a room splitting hairs is giving me major agita. The nerve these more than 12 angry men to actually think that what they have to pontificate about means a hill of beans compared to the harsh, sad realities of the world. Raise my tax, slap a millionaire, see if I care.

UPDATED - December 12, 2012 – 4:00 PM

Uh Oh! John Boehner just warned Congress not to make plans for the holidays because it looks like they will all be skinny dipping over the Fiscal Cliff together for Christmas. Now more than ever–or at least since this morning–the cronies will want to spark up the Fiscal Spliffs to get through it.

POSTED - December 12, 2012 – 10:08 AM

What? The Fiscal Cliff talks stalled…again? Then it is time to implement the Fiscal Spliff. I mean…come on. This Fiscal Cliff nonsense has become the most boring news story since the Kate & Jon Gosselin divorce and equally as time consuming. My Fiscal Spliff Plan is simple: The Do-Nothing Congress, the Self-Righteous Senate and President Obama need to go to Boulder, Colorado and spark up a bunch of marijuana filled cigarettes (aka spliffs) and chill the fuck out. The Fiscal Spliff will have them all together in a room, perhaps on water beds, where they can smoke, laugh, eat then come to terms on how to get over themselves.

Imagine Harry Reid and Nancy Pelosi getting stoned, then they look over at John Boehner, who has taken a way too big hit off the Fiscal Spliff and his face turns beet red. They crack up and say, “Hey John, your face is a lovely shade of red, which is way better than that burnt orange that you normally sport.” The entire room cracks up and John Boehner starts crying. This, however, is the tactic to get the Tea Party members to feel guilty and then agree to his negotiating terms prearranged with Obama, who is eating the last of the Twinkies supplied by the baker’s union to remind them what they could be missing if the economy continues to spiral out of control.

What weed did for James Franco, it can also do for the Congress & Senate.